


Wedge

by MoanDiary



Series: Moan Your Way Through Fuckruary [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chloe Sandwich, Deckerstain, Double Penetration, F/M, M/M, Multi, Prompt: Double Penetration, Sexual Fantasy, Threesome - F/M/M, fuckruary2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoanDiary/pseuds/MoanDiary
Summary: Chloe would have never thought of them together—of their matched heights and similar broadness, of the idea of them intimately entwined—if she hadn’t had the image of their lips locked in a deep kiss, of Lucifer’s hands on Pierce’s square jaw, seared into her memory. And now it’s all she can think about.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar/Marcus Pierce, Lucifer Morningstar/Marcus Pierce
Series: Moan Your Way Through Fuckruary [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626784
Comments: 32
Kudos: 214





	Wedge

She blames that stupid fucking undercover sting.

Chloe would have never thought of them together—of their matched heights and similar broadness, of the idea of them intimately entwined—if she hadn’t had the image of their lips locked in a deep kiss, of Lucifer’s hands on Pierce’s square jaw, seared into her memory. And now it’s all she can think about. 

They’re close now, despite their constant bickering. They spend mysterious hours sequestered in the precinct conference room with the blinds drawn, and she burns with curiosity. She knows Lucifer is equal-opportunity when it comes to who he invites into his bed, but Pierce is a complete mystery. Are they spending time outside of work, too? Is this purely a professional relationship? When she invites Lucifer over for a quiet dinner and game night with Trixie and he declines due to a “prior engagement”—which happens more often than not these days—is that engagement the lieutenant?

She misses him, and she thinks about just showing up at his penthouse on one of those nights. About wearing something on the edge of seductive. Not too obvious. Maybe that slightly-too-low-cut blouse that she knows drives Lucifer to distraction given the number of times he’s zoned out mid-conversation while she’s wearing it, his eyes directed south of her face. Maybe, beneath it, she’d wear that one expensive, impractical bra Dan got her for Christmas years ago that sits untouched at the bottom of her underwear drawer. 

The doors of the elevator might part to reveal a penthouse strewn with discarded clothing: Pierce’s comfortable, no-nonsense jeans and t-shirt and plaid mingled with articles of Lucifer’s designer suit. She hears low moaning and the shushing of skin against sheets and walks further in, Lucifer’s bedroom slowly coming into view.

Lucifer is braced on his forearms—ass in the air, hair disheveled, eyes screwed shut, and mouth stretched in a pleased, panting grin—and Pierce is kneeling behind him, gripping Lucifer’s narrow hips, thrusting at an impatient, almost punishing pace, teeth gritted in an expression adjacent to annoyance.

She must make a noise because Lucifer’s eyes snap open, and his head turns towards her. 

“Ah, Detective!” he exclaims breathlessly. “I thought you were spending this evening with the urchin.”

Pierce stops and turns, too, eyebrows rising. He doesn’t seem embarrassed, though, just mildly surprised to find her there. “I’d ask if you’ve ever heard of knocking, Decker, but this idiot apparently doesn’t believe in doors.”

“I-I—” Chloe stammers. She must be beet-red, but for some reason she can’t turn away. She licks her lips nervously. Lucifer’s eyes dart down to follow the movement. He seems to consider something for a moment, then he reaches back and easily shoves Pierce off of him. The Lieutenant subsides into a sitting position on the bed, cock hard and wet and _significant_. Lucifer gets to his feet and pads towards her. She’s seen him naked multiple times, but never naked _and_ mid-coitus. Never naked and fully aroused. The sight is...inspiring, to say the least. She feels her breathing accelerate.

“Is this visit to do with work, Detective, or is it something of a more _personal_ nature?” he purrs.

She swallows, the noise loud in the pregnant silence of the penthouse. “I wanted to know what it is that you and Pierce do all the time.”

“Well, now you know.”

“Now I know.”

Lucifer glances back at Pierce, and they seem to share some unspoken communication. Pierce shrugs and nods, a predatory smile spreading across his face.

“You know you have an open invitation to my bed, Detective,” Lucifer says, with a offhandedness that seems at least a little feigned. “And I’m sure the lieutenant wouldn’t protest.”

His gaze drops to the low neckline of the blouse, to the tiniest hint of the black lace of her bra peeking out from under it. His lips part, and she sees his tongue swipe across the back of his teeth, expression betraying a kind of hungry desperation. She steps closer to him, close enough that his hard cock slides against the silk of her blouse, leaving a trail of moisture behind it. He sucks in a quick breath but waits for her, like he always does, eyes locked on hers.

She lifts her hands to his face and draws him down into a kiss. It’s heated almost immediately, nothing like their one chaste previous kiss, her tongue coming out to push between his lips. They part obligingly at the slightest prompting. His mouth tastes of whiskey and tobacco and something undefinable and uniquely him. He moans—a small, helpless noise—and she nips at his cupid’s bow, hands sliding down his neck to the smooth, hard planes of his chest. She pushes him gently, and he walks backwards into his bedroom, kissing her all the while, hands fisting in the fabric of her blouse, tugging it untucked, seeking out the heated skin beneath.

They break apart only to climb the steps, and Chloe takes the opportunity to kick off her shoes and socks and wriggle out of her jeans. Lucifer sits on the edge of the bed beside Pierce, grinning up at her and patting the spot between him and the lieutenant. Chloe takes it and Lucifer sets to work placing hot, wet kisses from her jaw down to her neckline while she turns to her boss.

Pierce is examining her with a contemplative curiosity, interested but not leering, seemingly unfazed by the entire situation. Something about his calmness eases her nerves. She leans up and presses a hesitant kiss to his full lips. He responds quickly and expertly, applying just the right amount of teeth and tongue and suction. He and Lucifer are a study in opposites in this, as they are in most things. They both are extraordinarily talented kissers, but with Lucifer it’s all fire and passion and abandon, while Pierce is calculated and precise and detached.

Meanwhile Lucifer unbuttons her blouse, slowly drawing it open to reveal her bra. He presses a line of soft, open-mouthed kisses along the edge of the sheer lace, then she feels the heat of his breath against her nipple through the translucent fabric. He sucks it into his mouth, and the heat and moisture combined with the friction of the fabric make her writhe and press her legs together, mouth breaking away from Pierce’s with a gasp. Pierce mirrors Lucifer and bends down to attend to her other breast. 

Chloe presses a hand to her mouth, biting down on the soft meat of her palm to prevent some truly embarrassing noises from escaping her. She grips Lucifer’s hair with the other, hanging on for dear life. Eventually he relents for long enough to reach behind her and undo her bra clasp, then eases her down onto the bed. She scoots back until her head meets a pillow, and the two men crawl into position beside her, Lucifer lit up with a grin like a kid on Christmas morning and Pierce watching her with keen anticipation.

“What do you want, my dear?” Lucifer asks, breathless, eyes roving restlessly from her eyes to her mouth to her breasts to her legs. “Anything— _anything_ —you desire.”

“I want you—both of you—inside me,” she whispers, eyes flicking from Lucifer’s heated, dark-eyed stare to Pierce’s icy blue appraisal. Her hands slide down to grasp both of them, hot and hard and ready. They’re both of a size that could accurately be described as “daunting,” but the thought of it makes her clench in anticipation. She’s never asked for anything like this before, never thought she’d have the chance with her previous partners. But she knows Lucifer will be more than happy to accommodate, and is fully capable of making sure she enjoys it.

“As you wish,” he replies slyly. His eyes flick to Pierce, and they exchange another unspoken message before Lucifer crawls down between her legs and drags off her panties, tossing them heedlessly over his shoulder. Then he grasps her ass with both hands and dives in. Pierce kisses her again, hands massaging her breasts and making slow, caressing journeys up and down her flanks and along her arms. The first touch of Lucifer’s mouth on her vulva is like a bolt of lightning. She arches up off the bed, and her hand flies to the back of his head. He sets to work with enthusiasm, tongue tracing around her clit in slow, languorous circles, occasionally darting out to swipe it with a feather-light, teasing flick. He sucks the folds of her labia and laps shallowly into her entrance, encouraging her to get wetter and wetter rather than licking her clean.

She writhes on the slippery sheets, overwhelmed by sensation everywhere but the place where she wants it most. She tugs on Lucifer’s hair, trying to encourage him to press closer, but it’s like trying to move a boulder. He seems determined to go at his own pace, ever so gradually flicking at her clit more frequently until finally he takes it between his lips. She nearly sobs in relief, hips tilting towards him, pleasure peaking in a trembling wave. 

After a long time, she finally unclenches and subsides back bonelessly onto the bed. Lucifer pops up into her line of sight, hair a disheveled mess and eyes bright, licking his lips and wiping his wet chin with the back of his hand. He dips his head to plant eager kisses on her body as he climbs back up, joining Pierce in stroking her. In a post-orgasmic daze with four large, warm hands roving over her body, it’s hard to keep track of what exactly is happening, so she stops trying, gives herself permission to surrender to the flow of pleasure.

Lucifer eases her onto her side, facing him, and she feels Pierce move away for a moment, leaving her backside feeling a bit cold and bereft. But soon he returns and she hears the pop of bottle opening, then a moment later Pierce’s large, slick fingers stroking her asshole. She’s already wet from Lucifer’s exertions, but he makes doubly sure before pressing a finger inside her gently, easing her open. Meanwhile, Lucifer is kissing her breasts again and working one clever hand between her legs, stroking her clit soothingly, keeping her on an even, pleasurable keel while Pierce prepares her.

There’s the sound of more lube being squirted out and then a pause. Lucifer touches her chin and she opens her eyes to look at him. “You’re sure, Detective?” he asks gently. 

She nods vehemently. “Yes,” she whispers. “Please.”

Then Lucifer pulls her leg over his hip and Pierce is pressing inside her. He’s big, but she’s ready. She reaches behind her to grip the muscular flesh of his ass, urging him forward as he thrusts shallowly, then deeper and deeper, until he’s fully seated inside her. She groans at the sensation, wriggling a bit to get comfortable. Lucifer strokes her clit a few more times before scooting closer and pressing the head of his cock to her folds, rubbing it back and forth against her opening and spreading lube and her own slickness onto himself before easing into her.

She gasps at the stretch, and behind her Pierce’s chest rumbles in a groan. His muscular form flexes against her, but he holds himself immobile inside her, waiting for Lucifer. She’s never felt so full in her entire life, so thoroughly and intensely desired. Lucifer is gasping along with her, panting praise against her lips as he slides in further and further.

“Detective,” he whispers like a prayer. “You’re so—so tight, oh, darling, yes. Oh, you feel— _so good._ ” 

He finally bottoms out, and the three of them stay like that for a long moment, breathing heavily. Then Pierce apparently grows impatient and begins to move in gentle, rocking thrusts. Lucifer follows suit a moment later, thrusting in counterpoint to the Lieutenant. The pressure of Pierce in her ass presses Lucifer’s cock tight against her g-spot, making each of his movements feel achingly good. She grips at the muscles of Lucifer’s back, digs her nails in, hiking her leg around his hip as high as it can go. 

Both of them are so large—she feels engulfed and penetrated in the best way, sandwiched between two hot walls of writhing muscle. Pierce grips her breast and buries his face in her hair, breath hot on her neck, hips slapping briskly against her ass. Lucifer grips her thigh and seems torn between kissing her and watching her, so he alternates, long nose bumping against hers as he stares soulfully into her eyes, breath coming fast.

Pierce thrusts harder, and Lucifer increases his pace accordingly, pelvic bone hitting her clit with every thrust. She knows she’s making noises, noises she doesn’t think she’s ever made before, but she can’t muster the self-consciousness to care. Her inner muscles are trembling and twitching, but she’s so full she can’t even bear down. The relentless stimulation soon overwhelms her, and she comes again, abdomen tensing and trembling, muffling her scream of pleasure in Lucifer’s shoulder. They fuck her through it, drawing her pleasure out as she shakes with aftershocks.

When she finally comes back to herself, Pierce rolls Lucifer onto his back so Chloe is straddling him, with Pierce on top of both of them, holding most of his weight up with his famously muscular arms. Chloe gratefully takes the opportunity to relax onto Lucifer’s chest, breasts pressed against him, as the two men continue to work, Pierce fucking her hard now as Lucifer grinds into her from beneath.

She lavishes kisses on Lucifer’s cheeks, his brow, his chin. Sucks on his earlobe, nibbles the curve of his jaw. He’s flushed and flustered and a hair’s breadth away from losing control, and he’s beautiful. _He’s mine,_ she thinks. _Mine, mine, mine._

“Detective, I—C-Chloe—” Lucifer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut, fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

“Come inside me,” she gasps. His hips stutter unevenly.

Pierce makes a strangled noise and stills behind her, his arms trembling in her peripheral vision. Lucifer follows a few rapid thrusts later, keeping his eyes fixed on hers until he can’t anymore, head tilting back in ecstasy—

—Chloe’s orgasm hits her hard, her fingers working quickly between her legs, almost succeeding in swallowing the sound that tears itself free from her throat. She pants as she comes down, listening to make sure neither Trixie nor Maze heard and might be on their way to check on her. The muted sound of the television downstairs continues unabated.

She runs a hand through her hair and sighs, staring up at her bedroom ceiling. So ends another Tuesday night alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudes to [Obliobla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliObla/pseuds/ObliObla) for betaing! Happy first day of [Fuckruary](https://freakyfebruary.tumblr.com) to all, and to all a good night!


End file.
